As the three young trainees continued to chat, the day slowly went by, and the caravan of trainees arrived at their destination: the Demon Cave, the training ground of the Sacred Flame Cult.
As they approached their destination, Hector looked up, marveling at the beautiful terrain. The Sacred Flame Cult's main branch was located on the highest peak within the Demonic Mountains. From there, sect branches were located on every mountain within the mountain range. Thankfully, all aspiring trainees were required to gather at the Main Branch of the Sect before heading to the Demon Cave.
The cave was located in a large valley between mountains near the center of the mountain range. The valley was a stunning sight to behold. Thick-trunked trees towered over the flatland, the fresh scent of sap drifting through the air. The orange leaves rustled in the wind, contrasting the light falling white snow that began to coat the green, luscious grass.
The setting sun's radiant light reflected off the glistening crystal blue water of the lake, and the clearing glowed in a heavenly mirage of purples and oranges.
"Incredible. Now that's a sight." Hector whispered softly, his attention entrapped by the beauty of the valley.
"Yes, it is. Sights like this are actually quite common here. It's one benefit that we often take for granted." Yumi said gently, also admiring the view. Even Hothrian grunted and nodded in agreement.
The wagons screeched to a halt, and the drivers all hopped off and turned to face the recruits.
"Here it comes." Muttered Yumi.
"Here what…" Hector started but was swiftly cut off.
The instructors all began to scream at the trainees.
"Get the fuck out the carts! Move, dam it, move!" The instructor, who had been driving their cart, screamed. His voice roared out, shocking some of the more unprepared trainees; even Hector was caught off guard a bit by the sudden outburst.
Despite this, his body moved immediately, and he swung himself out of the cart, landing only moments behind Yumi and Hothrian. Before his feet even hit the ground, the instructor was in Hector's face, jabbing his chest.
"You! What's your name?" He screamed, spittle flying out of his mouth and landing on Hector's face.
"Hector Voss!"
Suddenly, the instructor's fist slammed into Hector's gut, sending him crashing to the ground and gasping for air.
"How dare you! While you remain here, you all will address us as Instructor or sir! Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir!" the trainees screamed, Hector's barely audible voice joining them.
He was quick to pull himself to his feet, but the pain shot throughout his body, and he was forced to gasp in order to breathe.
Hector was not the only victim of the instructor's brutality. Another trainee, three spots to his left, crashed to the ground, his face bashed in. "You worthless fucking bitch! How dare you not know your own name! Did your mother hate you so much that she didn't give you one? Fine then, I will be kind enough to give you a name! Your new name is Quack. Be honored, you fucking quack!"
The screams came from every corner of the caravan, the trainees all rushing to follow orders as swiftly as possible. Dozens of people were brutally assaulted, thrown to the ground, and beaten by the instructors.
The violence soon came to a close as the trainees all lined up in formation, facing a man who domineered over the other instructors. He was tall and built like a durnok, his massive arm muscles on full display, and his robes were sleeveless. Only Hothrian was larger than this instructor, but the aura radiating off the man was overwhelming.
"Listen up, maggots! While you're here, you do exactly what I say! If you don't like it, then come tucking fight me!" He bellowed, his commanding voice and overwhelming aura enveloping the entire valley.
"After you join the cult, only two things matter: respect for the Heavenly Demon and power! Personal power is the most important asset one can possess. Only with power and potential will you continue to rise through the ranks. The moment you stop growing is when the Heavenly Demon's protection stops." The Head Instructor paused for dramatic effect, his eyes skimming over the gathered trainees and his aura assessing them.
Amongst the gathered trainees, quite a few stood out to him; he could sense their potential and grinned. 'Good. With this batch, I might be able to manage the promotion.' he thought to himself, his internal greed simmering beneath the surface of his stern exterior.
"While you are here, I will teach you how to cultivate, grant you opportunities to learn martial techniques, and give you real-life experience. Many fully-fledged cult members would kill in order to be given the opportunities that you all are receiving right now.
The cult heavily invests in the talented and the hard-working. For most of you, this is the only chance you will ever have to secure true martial treasures."
Hearing the mention of treasure and power, everyone's eyes lit up. Fires ignited in the hearts of many, and the competitive drive reared its head in their hearts. Hector specifically hungered at those words. He would take as much as he could during his time here. He wouldn't waste a single opportunity. Of that, he was determined.
"During your time here, you all will be treated based only on strength. Even Zahara Cheonma shall be given no special privileges!" The head instructor swept out his arm, gesturing to a young woman standing at the forefront of the crowd.
Murmurs erupted from the trainees as they stared at the young man. Many whispered about them, calling her "The Demonic Lioness."
Hector looked at the young woman's back. According to his guess, Zahara Cheonma was slightly younger than himself.
Despite the simplicity of her black robes, there was an undeniable regality to the young woman. She possessed an effortless aura that commanded attention. Her figure, powerful and striking, refused to be hidden. Muscles sculpted through years of disciplined training gave her an hourglass frame both fierce and feminine. Her legs were extremely long, her thighs were thick and corded with strength, matched the width of her waist, elegant in their defiance of fragility.
But what truly seized his breath was her skin—golden brown, gleaming like polished bronze beneath the sun—and the cascade of snow-white braids that spilled down her back, each one carefully woven, reaching her waist like a living crown.
For the first time in his life, Hector was stunned by beauty.
Hector's attention was drawn back to the Head Instructor as he continued his speech. "The Heavenly Demon has personally supplied the training facilities with rewards superior to any treasury in the Sect except his own. Perform well, and you shall be given all the opportunities you can handle."
He fell silent and stared at the sect's young men and women. They were its future.
He grinned—wide and malevolent.
"There are too many of you… Forty too many, I think?"
He chuckled, eyes gleaming.
"Yes. That sounds about right."
Then his voice sharpened.
"Trainees, your first test begins now."
A pause.
"Fight. Of the 240 here, only 200 will move on."
His smile widened.
"Don't hold back."
The group stood still for a moment, the valley falling silent as they absorbed the Head Instructor's words.
The silence lasted mere moments as soon as screams took their place.
Reacting swiftly, Hector drew his blade and danced away from the lines of trainees. He was just in time. The group burst into movement, Steel scraping on scabbards as they were drawn and blood pouring to the ground as the swords pierced flesh.
This was the moment Hector had been waiting for. This is when he would take his first steps towards power.